


still-there-monday-morning kind of love

by idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish Comes Home from College, Fluff, M/M, Soft Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish, like literally soooo soft you guys, there's a tag ??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-08 04:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20308366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo/pseuds/idontshaveforsher_yesyoudo
Summary: Adam is home from college and Ronan is soft and in love. It rains.





	still-there-monday-morning kind of love

**Author's Note:**

> written very quickly n without much second thought bc I got inspired by a song. feedback much appreciated. kiind of tried out a different style than usual ? idk.
> 
> title by mika's 'tiny love'

_It's not a sunrise over canyons shaped like hearts_  
_It isn't bursting into song in Central Park_  
_It's not the outline of your face drawn in the stars_  
_It's a "still-there-Monday-morning" kind of love_

_-Mika, Tiny Love_

Ronan wakes up in the same bed he’s woken up in pretty much every day for the last year, in the same room, the same creaking old house.

He twists from one side to the other, extends an arm across the empty space next to him, groans.

Sits up.

Furrows his brows, because despite being in the same place he always is in the morning, he knows that today is not the usual. That today is different, because it’s the first morning that Adam is home from college, because Ronan has been looking forward to finally waking up next to him again for more than just a few days during Thanksgiving and Christmas for months now.

And yet, the bed is empty except for himself.

His brows remain furrowed as he rubs his eyes to wake up, runs a hand through his more-than-stubble hair that he’s been letting grow out for a while now, much to the delight of Adam.

Adam, who left him alone in a cold bed and decided that opening the curtains while he was at it was a nice gesture. Asshole.

There’s no point in remaining in this empty, cold bed when he knows that there’s a warm body somewhere downstairs, so he gets up with a loud sigh. He knows he’s being a bit overdramatic, but he was looking up to waking up next to his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He knows it sounds cheesy as fuck, but he doesn’t care. Sue him for being in love.

So, he uses the bathroom, then goes downstairs.

The smell of coffee and slightly-burned-toast already fills the house, the clattering of a mug being set down on the wooden counter in the kitchen audible even on the stairwell.

As he leans in the doorway of the kitchen and quietly watches as Adam spreads butter on some toast with his back turned to him, humming a song Ronan doesn’t recognise and ever so slightly bopping along to whatever is playing in his head, Ronan decides that, after waking up next to his boyfriend, this comes a close second in his list of favourite things; the distinct signs of another human being filling his space, fitting himself into the holes Ronan didn’t even know were there, making himself at home with an air of certainness he admires, envies, even.

Adam’s smile is slow when he turns, melting across his cheekbones and into dimples slowly, crinkling by the corner of his eyes.

“Morning,” he says, his voice quiet.

It’s at this moment, absurdly, that Ronan notices that it’s raining outside.

The kitchen window is cracked open only a bit, filling the house with whatever the smell is called that is always all-surrounding on mornings like these, the smell of the grass breathing in relief at the refreshment after too-hot summer days, the ground opening up every pore to drink in the water, the whole word closing its eyes and exhaling all at once.

That smell mixed with the fresh coffee and the rhythm of rain hitting the roof mixes together in a way that is almost unbearable to Ronan for some reason – far too many feelings for this early in this morning.

He realises he’s been staring at Adam for at least a minute now, who’s still smiling at him in the same soft manner as before.

“You okay?” He asks, now, and Ronan wants to scoff, sneer, some other reaction he’s used to giving when asked something ridiculous. He’s far more than okay, but instead of scoffing, or sneering, or some other reaction he’s used to giving when asked something ridiculous, he crosses the room and pulls Adam close, presses their foreheads together, kisses him once, twice.

Barely moves away from Adam, barely opens his eyes.

“Let’s go back to bed.”

Adam huffs. “It’s past nine already.”

“Whatever. You’re on vacation.”

Adam presses a kiss to his lips, then moves out of Ronan’s grip.

“You get the coffee, I’ll get the toast.”

Ronan takes Adam’s mug as ordered and pours himself coffee into a mug that already has sugar in it, stirs it, takes both mugs into his hand.

Adam puts the toast he already prepared on a plate and walks out of the kitchen without a look back, moving upstairs.

Ronan follows his figure, careful not to spill the coffee as he gets back into bed.

Adam sets the plate down on the small bedside table, then moves to open the window wide.

The curtains flutter in the wind as the two of them bundle up under one of the covers, share toast, drink their coffee, make stupid jokes and murmur soft shit that Ronan would normally rather be caught dead than to say.

The rain hits the roof in a steady rhythm, still, for a lot longer than either of them are awake, because not long after their mugs are empty and set aside, Adam droops off in Ronan’s arms and Ronan follows after, lulled to sleep by the steady drops outside and the steady breathing of his boyfriend inside.

He wakes only a while later, cuddled deep into the mattress. This time around, Adam is still in bed with him, one arm slung around his waist where he has burrowed himself against Ronan’s chest.

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes again, takes in the air on his skin and the warmth of Adam’s body against his.

Adam moves, then, murmurs something that sounds like “Wha’s goin’ on?”, only with even less letters and even more contractions, accent heavy on his lips.

Ronan presses a kiss into his hair, answers something that sounds like “Nuthin”.

Adam moves away from him far enough to look at Ronan’s face. “Tell me”, he says, slightly more awake now.

Ronan smiles down at him. “Jus’ happy you’re here.”

Adam smiles back at him, all freckles and dimples and crinkles by his eyes. _Soft_, is the word that fits him best, despite all his sharp angles and biting words and all the anger and ambition bundled inside of him. When he’s like this, he’s just _soft_, and Ronan loves nothing more than the fact that he’s the one who gets Adam like this, unguarded and happy and ever so soft.

“’m happy ‘m here too”, Adam says.

Ronan smiles back, then feels his grin widen. So do Adam’s eyes, who knows exactly what’s coming next.

“Ro, don’t – “

“That’s gay, Parrish.”

Adam groans.

“Will you ever stop the gay jokes?”

“Don’t think so.” Ronan grins, but feels it turn softer again. “I am gay and in love, I think I’m allowed to make gay jokes.”

“You’re in love, huh?”

“You know I am.”

“Say it.”

“I just did.”

“Please?”

And it’s not fair, because Adam is incredibly _soft_and fluffy-looking and all the fresh air is making Ronan dizzy and he’s just so incredibly happy that he can’t help but say,

“I love you.”

Adam presses a kiss to his lips.

“I love you.”

And as the downpour continues outside, they fall back asleep.


End file.
